


Just A Game

by Faye_Reynolds



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Canon-typical language, Competent!Jonah, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, fuckboys in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faye_Reynolds/pseuds/Faye_Reynolds
Summary: Jonah looks at Dan and smiles, almostfondly. Dan ignores the way it makes his chest tighten and presses on.“Is there a fucking point to this or are you just going to be as vague as possible and keep smiling like a fucking weirdo?”Jonah laughs and glides easily off the counter and closer to Dan with ease.“The point is that contrary to popular opinion, present company included, I’m very fucking good at what I do and there are a lot of people out there who owe me.”
Relationships: Dan Egan/Jonah Ryan
Comments: 19
Kudos: 40





	1. I Don't Know Where I Am

**Author's Note:**

> i've spent an absurd amount of time writing and rewriting this, so i'm posting the first chapter because if i don't do it now, i never will. 
> 
> please tell me what y'all think because i'm IN IT with this story; like made a playlist for when i write and everything. 
> 
> drag me if it's ooc or anything else my dumbass does wrong.
> 
> \- faye.

Dan’s career begins and ends the same way.

With a scandal.

He’s at some fundraiser for some bullshit that Selina thought needed a VP face in and Dan drew the short straw (literally they drew straws – twice because the first time Mike cut them all the same length claiming “he didn’t know what they were doing”). He’s doing that best he can, chatting up some group of full-drunk, half-high assholes with deep pockets when he says the wrong thing to the wrong friend or cousin or someone of a judicial councilman and realizes he’s royally fucked up and that he’s been fired and rehired but that this might really be the end of it. His heart is racing erratically from fear and worry, but mostly because he’s chasing down the person, Sandra, or Sasha or Sally whatthefuckever, in the middle of the fundraiser drawing more attention than necessary. He can feel his heart beating so hard that it’s about to jump out of his chest and slap him in the face but he doesn’t stop. He _can’t stop_. Not until he cleans up his own fucking mistake. But just before he reaches her, his body, his stupid fucked up mind, body, and soul take him out faster than a bullet to the head which he wishes he had instead. 

When he wakes up he’s in a hospital…again…accompanied by only Amy…again…and he’s fired…again, but this time it’s clear that it’s for good. No way back in no matter who he knows or no matter how hard he tries to weasel his way into their – Selina’s – good graces. Selina wanted to have him executed but she doesn’t have that power…at least legally. 

He wants to fight, wants to care, wants to feel anything other than the complete void of anything that’s currently there. 

But he can’t and he doesn’t. He sees what he assumes is supposed to be a look of concern on Amy’s face when he says nothing, but it just looks like she’s severely constipated. And it’s at that thought that Dan starts laughing. Uncontrollably. He can’t breathe and his chest hurts, but it feels so good to not care.

And Dan feels something lift from him knowing he doesn’t need two iPads or cell phones, a high power job, prestige or power. He doesn’t need anything. Not really. Not anymore.

He knows he’s in shock and probably losing his mind at a rapid rate, but that’s a situation for Other Dan, Future Dan, to deal with. 

He doesn’t even notice when Amy shrugs and leaves when both her phones ring.

He’s discharged a few hours later and sent home to an apartment he hasn’t been to in weeks.

He orders his favorite take out and opens his oldest bottle of scotch before his iPad, laptop and television are tuned into different networks to see what, if anything, is being said about the Veep’s _ex_ -Campaign manager chasing down the lobbyist niece of some judicial councilman before blacking out and falling face-first to the ground. 

He knows it’s pure ego and masochism that is pushing him to watch, but he genuinely does want to know if his career-ending mistake was even worth a mention or passing comment throughout the circuits. The ones that mattered, at least. 

He touches the bruise that’s covering the side of his left eye and forehead and thinks if the press can care about Catherine’s college essay, they’d most likely being fucking jumping at the chance to make him look as much the disaster he was and he isn’t disappointed. He’s not even surprised that they’re tearing him to shreds.

Luckily, he isn’t the only one. 

Selina is being heavily criticized for her tactics. Amy’s trying to handle the backlash and barely holding it together with two iPhones and two iPads clutched like she’s willing them to cause a bigger scandal. Still, Amy ultimately curtails the questions and issues a generic statement that Selena was unavailable for comment because she and POTUS were working on the new clean jobs addendum.

He scoffs at that. Both at POTUS and Selena working together and at Selena wanting clean jobs to pass because he knows her inclusions were cut from the first rendition of the bill. 

_That’s the game._ He thinks, switching the channel. 

He’s flipping back and forth until he catches some random news channel interviewing _Jonah_ of all people about the situation. He vaguely remembers Jonah being at the fundraiser, but that night is such a blur he can’t even remember the insults he hurled at the giant if any. Still, what keeps him from immediately changing the channel and what he’s really wondering (beyond why they’re interviewing Jonah at all) is what he’s going to say. Despite all attempts to prevent it, Jonah knows more about Dan than most people. Jonah’s insight into Dan’s motivations and behaviors has always been spot on and Dan always did his best to hide that truth. Jonah had a keen eye for hidden motives and Dan had always been secretly impressed by it. 

Still, nearly any enemy Dan has ever made has come out of the woodworks to tear him to political shreds and he hasn’t even batted an eye. Jonah wasn’t necessarily an enemy, but their tensions and Jonah’s knowledge of Dan and the Meyer shitshow could completely eradicate any attempt at recovery for Dan. 

If that’s even what Dan wants anymore. _Now_ , he’s not so sure. 

Still, the thought of Jonah’s inevitable rant about everything wrong with Dan Egan hits him harder than all the others and makes his head fuzzy and scotch want to come back up. He tries to calm down and wait for the commercials to end.

He watches Jonah’s crooked, slightly smug smile as the interview returns. Jonah’s the last and what looks like a sudden guest of their Dan Egan Shit Show and Dan smiles slightly at that.

He doesn’t realize the interview has started because he’s been too busy watching Jonah try to drink from a coffee mug and talk at the same time.  
He smiles again.

The interview is a standard recounting of the event, Jonah is asked a series of questions that raises Dan’s heart rate. 

“So, in your opinion, why do you think Mr. Egan lost control at the fundraiser that night? Do you think charges should be pressed, as some of his constituents have suggested? And with the loss of his job, will you be vying for the position yourself? You’ve been close to the Meyer campaign so far, even in her Vice Presidency.”

He doesn’t realize Jonah’s having some sort of conniption until he sees the furious shaking head of the boyband haircut that he’s made fun of for far too long for it to be funny anymore.

The interviewer prompts, “Mr. Ryan?” 

He watches Jonah take a deep breath as Dan holds his. Something about this feels like he’s hanging off the edge of a cliff and the fact that _Jonah_ is the one that’s either going to save him or push him off makes him feel like this is all a dream. 

“Look, I’m the first to say that Dan- _Mr. Egan_ is not the easiest person to work with.”

_Here we go._ Dan thinks as he releases his breath and hangs his head between his hands. 

“Still, he is one of the hardest workers I’ve ever seen.” 

Dan’s head shoots up.

He watches Jonah look down and smile slightly before looking directly at the interviewer and continuing with an intense directness that has even the interviewer squaring their shoulders.

“The amount of stress any person on the Hill is under is enormous and _still_ he handled it with calm and dignity. I don’t think charges should be pressed because no harm was done and that is being blown out of proportion. It’s clear he was just trying to get someone’s attention who couldn’t hear him or was distracted. As for his “constituents,” Jonah air quotes with the giant hands that look even bigger in the smaller television frame, “I can guarantee anyone who said that is trying to follow the pack or get the job vacancy which I _am not_ vying for. I’m very happy with my current job and I wouldn’t do that to a dear friend, especially one who was wrongfully terminated. The fact that the Meyer campaign is so readily available to drop such an important, dedicated, and loyal member of their team shows weakness and fear far greater than this so-called scandal that can barely be defined as a misunderstanding. They jumped the gun and so has every single person who has reported on this or talked shit about Dan Egan. Thank you.”

Dan is staring, mouth agape, and hands shaking as he watches the camera follow Jonah storming off the interview area, ripping his mic off before he shouts about why it was wrapped around his tie. 

“We’ll, uh, be right back with more on this situation in a minute.” The interviewer finishes lamely before Dan turns the television off. 

Dan’s dreaming. Either that or he’s officially gone insane because there’s no way that just happened. There’s no way that Jonah _Fucking_ Ryan is the only one who defended him, who pulled him away from the edge, and who is the reason Dan feels like he can actually find a way to bounce back from this or at least stay in D.C. 

He takes his pills, finishing the scotch, and before he can even think he texts, Jonah, a single word ignoring the mountain of missed notifications and an odd pounding in his chest.

Before he blacks out, he can’t help but think that something significant has just happened, but he’s asleep on the floor before that can make any sense. 

_9:53 p.m._  
_Dan: Thanks._

* * *

  
The next morning Dan wakes up to pounding on the front door of his apartment as well as inside his head.

He slowly pushes himself off the floor, bones cracking from the uncomfortable position and lack of cushioning all night and shuffles his way towards the door prepared entirely to shoot whoever it is on sight. _God Bless America._

He rips the door open without grace and the moment his bloodshot eyes recognize Jonah he moves to slam the door back in the giant’s face. However, due to lack of any fine motor skills at the moment, he’s too slow and Jonah’s hand is on the door and foot between the closing, pushing the door back open with gentle force.

The door opens wide enough and long enough for Jonah to get a decent look at Dan. 

“I always say you look like shit Dan, but this time I might actually mean it.”

And with that, Jonah bursts into his apartment, and the only thing keeping Dan from throwing him through the window in the smell of coffee and grease easing his hangover.

He shuts the door unceremoniously and snaps his finger for the coffee without even looking at Jonah and grabs his phone after the coffee hits his hand.

He’s about to rapid-fire questions at Jonah but Jonah’s phone rings and he’s talking before it even connects.

“I already told you if Jane wants the interview then she has to agree to my terms. I’m not a fucking amateur okay. She likes hit pieces and she gets off on fucking people over in the worst way. So, she can jack off all day long to someone else, but not today and not on my watch. If she wants to be the only one out there without the real story and the press to go with it, then that’s on her, but I’m not fucking compromising.”

Dan plugs his phone into the charger on the counter and listens to Jonah batter whoever is on the phone into acquiescing to his demands. It’s impressive, at least in comparison to what he would usually expect from Jonah, and Dan takes a drink of coffee before he tells Jonah as much.

He smiles slightly when Jonah levels him with petulant glare, then sighs as the caffeine hits him, and is pleased when he finds it’s exactly the way he likes it.

“Tell her exactly what I said. Don’t mince words.” Jonah demands. 

He’s too tired, hungover, and apathetic to care that the next words he speaks to Jonah aren’t the questions he wants to ask, but rather, “You know how I like my coffee?” 

Jonah gapes at him for roughly ten seconds, emotions flickering too fast for Dan to catch any, but he recovers quickly and sets his phone away from his mouth.

“Yeah, you shouted it enough times at the interns for it to stick.”

Dan nods and takes another drink, unsure why he feels a sudden warmth at Jonah’s knowledge of his coffee order when his phone chimes in rapid succession to indicate it’s turned back on.

“This is a fucking disaster.” Dan sighs, no real heat in his words, more annoyance than anything. 

“Fine. The first sign of fuckery from Jane and we walk.” Jonah threatens before ending the call.

Jonah throws his phone on the dining table he’s sat at and the heavy thud of its contact captures Dan’s attention.

“So, I expected this to already be going differently, but before you really kick me out, just listen to what I have to say?” Jonah asks and then adds, _“Please.”_

Dan’s eyebrows rise and he looks again at Jonah. There’s always been an awkwardness inherent in Jonah, but he notices none of that at that moment. He just sees earnest curiosity as Jonah waits for an answer. 

Dan reaches for his phone. Old habits die hard and the weight is a comfort that helps settle the unease of anxiety Dan’s feeling.

He shrugs trying to curb the uncharacteristic demeanor of the giant sitting in front of him, “You have until I’m done with my coffee.”

Jonah smiles and nods appreciatively as if he’s surprised he’s even allotted that. 

“Alright, so I’m just gonna jump right in. You’re already behind on this entire thing but you still are in the best position right now to take control.”

Dan texts Amy that he didn’t kill himself despite her deepest wishes. He tells his mother that, no, this doesn’t mean he’s moving home and ignores the text from his brother.

“How so?” He asks Jonah from beneath his lashes before looking back down at his phone.

“Dan, you’re in a rare situation where your public response is taken for its word. You get to control the narrative of it because no one has heard it yet. No press release, no one speaking for you or through channels to get your side out. It’s just you. You could say anything, and they’ll have to believe it because Judge Walters’ niece isn’t speaking up. After all, Kent has done everything aside from killing her in order to shut her up. Meyer hasn’t even released anything. POTUS basically issued a gag order because of the new clean jobs thing. You’re the only primary source of information. If you want to control this and stay in DC like I know you do, then you have to get out there before some other shit takes the spotlight and you have nothing.”

Dan mulls over the idea through three sips of coffee. It’s not like he didn’t immediately think of this when he was watching the interviews yesterday, noticing the lack of any real press release or official statements, but now he has Jonah who is willing to back up his side of the story and did as much last night. Why Jonah did that, he still doesn’t understand, but his apathy still lingers as his chronic cynicism flares up. He’d put himself out there as much as humanly fucking possible and it fucked him over. _Again._ He’s not sure it’s worth the trouble anymore. He doesn’t know if he wants to play the game anymore. 

“What’s the point?” He asks, and _fuck_ he wishes he didn’t sound like the lead singer of the fucking sad bands Jonah listens to, but here he is. 

Jonah swallows heavily and Dan watches him for a moment, noticing a hungry determination that’s starting to feel kind of infectious. 

“The point? The point is that you don’t fucking end up some Comptroller in fucking Rochester. The point is that you don’t throw away everything because they, _not you,_ fucked up. The point is that Selina fucking Meyer doesn’t win because unlike the rest of the world, except maybe your mother, I know you can do this. You’re intelligent, a quick-thinker, and absolutely ruthless when it’s needed in this fucking business. You may not have been born into this, but you’re made for it. It’d be absolute fucking waste if you gave all that up. Do you have any idea what opportunities you’re gonna have out there if you play this right? Shit you never even dreamed of, Dan.”

Normally his ego overpowers his apathy, but not this time. The thought of giving himself over to the game again is making him dizzy with hesitation. 

As if Jonah could sense this, he speaks again. 

“I know you’ve never had a reason to, but…just trust me, Dan. We can do this. I promise. Okay?” Jonah requests quietly.

Dan thinks it over. He’s the laughingstock of the Hill. His enemies are circling his reputation’s corpse like vultures. He has no job, no job offers and his prospects are about six feet under rock bottom. He’s spent the entirety of his career burning bridges rather than build them and of all those bridges, he’s not sure how he and Jonah are standing on an intact one now. Still, here they are and Jonah, Jonah fucking Ryan himself, is trying his hardest to get Dan back on his feet. Running a quick pros and cons list cross-referenced with indifference and lack of anything better in his near future, he comes to a decision. 

“Okay. What’s your plan?” Dan replies and tosses the empty coffee cup in the trash along with the last of his self-pity and apathy.


	2. I Don't Know This Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh we're in it now y'all  
> as always, lmk if i'm messing up/problems  
> *chef's kisses to all of you*

As far as plans go, Jonah’s is a simple one: get ahead of the story, control the narrative, destroy his enemies, and come out on top.

“Just like that?” Dan questions, more unsure of Jonah’s capabilities than ever before and he’s not sure he’s had such little faith in doing something before.

Jonah rolls his eyes and Dan fights a smirk. It’s still fun to rile Jonah up. Probably always would be fun.

“Yeah, just lik-NO dumbass!” Jonah exclaims, moving to switch his phone out with Dan’s on the charger.

“It’s probably going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever done because it’s going to involve talking about your personal life, at the very least with me” Jonah clears his throat when Dan’s jaw clicks with tension, “but if you do it right and listen to me, I guarantee you’ll get whatever you want.”

 _What do I even want? Revenge? Am I that petty? Would it work? Would it even be worth it?_ Dan thinks as Jonah keeps trying to continue to convince him.

Still, despite every ounce of self-preservation kicking in, Dan couldn’t help but believe in what Jonah was spouting and in Jonah _himself._ He blames the hangover and his general, inherent, cynical indifference for what he says next.

“What’s the first step?”

Jonah’s initial response is a bright, crooked smile that force Dan’s stomach to flip against his will. He chalks it up to the coffee and waits for a real response.

“First step is you remembering what the fuck basic personal hygiene is. You look like absolute dog shit.”

Dan frowns and reaches for his phone out of reflex.

Jonah beats him to it and waves it in the glowering face of Dan who reaches to snatch it back immediately.

Childishly, Jonah lifts it _just_ out of Dan’s reach. And, childishly, Dan jumps to grab it, hands gripping Jonah’s arm to bring it down. It doesn’t budge and neither does a smiling Jonah as Dan jumps twice more before the giant speaks.

“No phone. Not until you look less a middle-aged alcoholic on a bender and more like the emotionless robot we all know and hate. And if you’re gonna make it through the four interviews I lined up this week, then we need to do a lot of prep. Shower now. Phone later.”

Dan groans and stomps his foot down before heading in the direction of the bathroom. Not because he was listening to Jonah, but because he was totally headed to the shower before Jonah ever knocked on his door.

He ignores the snicker of joy from the giant as he stalks toward his bathroom when something Jonah said catches up with him.

He rushes back into the living room, socked feet sliding him a bit further than he wanted as he slams his hip into the back of the beige couch he bought from a catalog.

“Hold the fuck up! Four interviews? How? With who? When?” Dan knows his mouth is hanging open, but Jonah has never been known for his efficiency, or anything positive really, in the Veep’s office, so he’s unsure as to how the freak of nature managed to pull this off.

For split second, Dan thinks he notices a sheepish, almost humble, look on Jonah’s face before it shifts back into annoyance.

“Shower first. Answers second.”

Jonah dismisses Dan by turning his back to him and typing furiously on his phone.

Dan definitively _does not_ stomp back toward his bathroom, head reeling with everything that’s happened in the last thirty-nine odd hours.

  
Career ended.  
Reputation ruined.  
No prospects.  
No connections.

Nothing.

Then Jonah.

The very last person Dan would ever expect or even want, to be in his corner, is somehow the only person there. Not only that, but it seems that he’s willing to risk his own reputation and career to help Dan bounce back. Dan is still trying to figure out why that is, but he’s not going to look a gifted giant in the mouth right now. Any help is good help. Even if it is from Jonah.

Dan turns the knobs in the shower on autopilot and as he turns to brush his teeth, he meets his reflection.

He supposes he should expect to see something worth noting, but aside from the bruise, he looks the same he always has. Maybe a little older, a touch greyer, and _definitely_ more tired, but he’s still the same Dan Egan.

At least on the surface.

Beneath the surface, Dan isn’t sure he’s still the same. Isn’t sure who he is now without his career and stress and statistics and campaign to distract him from the uncertainty of _what comes next_.

He scoffs, _little early in the morning for a fucking existential crisis._

 _Then again,_ Dan thinks, he’s never been good at timing.

As his mind races with everything still ahead of him – today alone – the little unsettling lump in his throat he’s had since Jonah started talking this morning is now threatening to choke him.

“Fuck!” He exclaims and he tries to suck in as much oxygen as possible.

His vision is spotting and he knows he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t manage to calm down. The attack hits fast despite Dan having taken his medication and the onslaught of the panic has all his calming methods fly out the window.

He falls to the floor along with his very expensive toothbrush and he distantly hears it crash to the ground and shatter into a million pieces over the roaring of blood in his ears.

No sooner does he try to breathe again than is Jonah knocking on the door.

“Dan?” Jonah asks cautiously then states firmly when he doesn’t get a response, “I’m gonna need you to answer me or else I’m coming in.”

Dan tries to speak up but his chest contracts again as his vision starts to blackout.

“I’m coming in.” Jonah declares.

Before he knows it, Jonah is encompassing his entire field of vision and Dan blearily tries to focus on him, blinking furiously. He vaguely feels large hands wrapping around his shoulders and a voice close but still far off addressing him.

“Okay, Dan look at me as best you can,” Jonah demands gently.

Dan thinks he succeeds because Jonah tells him “good job.”

“Now can you grab my wrists?”

He tries, but with his vision fading more but not entirely, he must not succeed. Instead, Jonah helps him by placing Dan’s hands around the warm, wide wrists of the other man.

“Good, just hold there, buddy, and keep looking at me.”

Dan can do this.

_I can do this._

Following each little order is helping him gain control. He looks back up and Jonah is blocking out everything else that could distract him.

Jonah smiles softly and Dan stares at it. Crooked, as always, but gentle.

The pressure in Dan’s chest eases, but he was still having trouble breathing.

“Alright, now the hard part. Breathe in as much as you can. When you inhale, squeeze my wrists. When you breathe out, let go.”

Dan tries a deep breath and squeezes hard, but he barely manages half an inhale before his chest catches in panic.

He coughs and releases the wrists quickly. His chest tightens again, but Jonah reassures him.

“It’s okay, Dan. Try again.”

This time he succeeds with a full inhale and exhale.

Jonah smiles again and this time Dan can actually see it and the relief in Jonah’s eyes.

“Good. Again.” Jonah instructs, hands squeezing Dan’s shoulders in assurance.

Dan breathes in and out with a little more ease, waiting on Jonah’s next instruction and ignoring the flutter of random anticipation he feels in the moment.

“Again. No rush. We have all the time in the world, Dan.”

After a handful of deep breaths in silence, Dan sags into himself as the panic finally dies, body caving in on itself in the aftermath.

He doesn’t look up but doesn’t let go of Jonah’s wrists, some part of him anchored to the ten pressure points of connection.

There’s a long silence that is neither uncomfortable nor comfortable, but rather, a necessary prelude to all the questions Dan knows Jonah is most likely going to ask.

“Dan?” Jonah asks softly, softer than Dan has ever heard before.

He looks to Jonah, eyes finally clear and focused directly on the man in front of him, waiting for the usual barrage of “What the fuck was that?”

“I’m gonna let you go, now,” Jonah says delicately as though Dan were a ticking bomb.

Dan nods, uncertain of anything he’s currently feeling and wondering why Jonah isn’t freaking out like everyone else has.

He’s still holding onto Jonah.

“Can I ask you to let go of my wrists or do you still need them?” Jonah questions gently.

Dan lets go suddenly as though he were burned.

Jonah senses the shift in tension and reassures him quickly, “I’ll just be outside. Shower and I’ll get breakfast.”

Dan nods, he could do that. The uncertainty was ebbing, but not enough that he didn’t trust himself not to fall back into panic.

Jonah offers a hand to Dan to pull him up and Dan accepts it slowly. His heightened awareness grants him the note of how soft and warm and _large_ Jonah’s hands are in comparison to his.

In Jonah’s hand, Dan’s almost looks _delicate_ … _fragile_.

He’s never thought anything about him could be delicate or fragile.

They stare for a long moment, Jonah at Dan and Dan at their hands, neither daring to speak first.

Then Jonah’s phone rings and the trance is broken. Both jump slightly at the sound, but neither of them mentions it.

“Shower. Shave. Don’t think.” Jonah murmurs before exiting the bathroom with a soft close of the door.

And in the blink of an eye, Dan’s left alone wondering what in the fuck just happened.

Still shaken, he heeds Jonah’s words and showers and shaves without a single thought.

He ignores what he can see of his reflection through the steam and gets dressed on autopilot.

As he slides each item of clothing on, he can feel himself being stitched back together into the person he was a few short days ago.

He pulls his arms through the familiar dark, _not_ _navy_ , blue suit jacket, and his sense of security locks in while his uncertainty bites the curb.

He takes a deep breath before exiting his bedroom. He walks toward his shoes in the living room, but stops dead in his tracks and tries to remember exactly why he’s putting his faith in Jonah when he sees the man cleaning a ketchup stain off his stark white button-down over his kitchen sink.

He notices that Jonah doesn’t notice him and watches as the man continues to rub the stain in.

“You know you’re making it worse, right?” He smiles when Jonah jumps in surprise.

“You’re a fucking creep, you know that? Fucking skulking around like a predator. Or Senator Briggs when he’s three to the wind.” Despite the remark, Jonah smiles again, and Dan must really be losing it because his first thought is wondering why he hasn’t seen Jonah smile so much before.

He forgoes following that stream of consciousness in favor of removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves as he pushes Jonah out of the way.

“Grab the vinegar from the cupboard behind you.” He points with his head and turns the faucet off.

Jonah hands over the bottle in silence and watches Dan work for a moment before Dan has to cut the silence and observation.

“So, what the hell makes you so certain your plan is gonna work?” Dan looks up at Jonah in question, not realizing they’re standing so closely over his kitchen sink.

He steps back, blotting the fading stain, as Jonah falls silent.

Dan looks up and is surprised to see an odd apprehension and reluctance in Jonah. Their professions demand expert skills in reading body language and seeing things that aren’t necessarily obvious.

The way Jonah’s holding himself with his arms crossed and refusing to make eye contact, Dan can easily tell he doesn’t want to talk about it, but Dan needs to know. His curiosity wins out and if Dan was going to trust Jonah with his future, the least Jonah could do would be to tell him how they’d get there.

Something about Jonah not trusting him, despite never giving the giant a reason to, gets under Dan’s skin.

He wants to be petulant, angry even, but instead, he gently says, “Trust, Jonah. It works both ways.”

Dan watches Jonah’s eyes narrow in questioning curiosity though his body language was still apprehensive.

He goes back to removing the stain and it’s quiet for a long moment when he hears a sudden deep breath release.

When he looks up through his lashes, Jonah is far more relaxed, shoulders low, and a small smile on his lips pulling ever so slightly to the left.

Dan's eyes are glued to it until Jonah speaks.

  
“Like I said, Dan, you weren’t born into this.”

Dan rolls his eyes, wondering where Jonah was going to go with this, but it doesn’t deter Jonah from continuing.

“I _was_.”

Jonah gracefully pulls himself onto Dan’s counter, legs still nearly touching the floor as he leans his head against the white cabinets behind him. He looks to Dan with bright, searching eyes and after a moment, sighs as though he is unburdening himself of a great secret. Not for the first time today does Dan think he’s woken up in a parallel universe because he’s absolutely silent and patience for what Jonah is going to say next.

“Scandals, spin stories, and sabotage were taught to me before my fucking ABCs. Despite what the rest of D.C. thinks, my job in the West Wing was _earned_ , not given. I submitted everything under a different last name. All my credentials, references, and applications were entered so that the very idea of a nepotistic placement would and could be denied. No one in the family even knew I applied.”

Jonah scoffs, more bitter than anything else and Dan gets it. Not a single person who knew of Jonah thought he got the job on his own merits, Dan included. He wants to ask why Jonah never denied it when people have said as much to him, but then he starts again.

“I spent a lot of summers with my uncle and since he has no sons and is the very definition of misogyny, I guess he took upon himself to take me under his wing…up to a point.” Jonah rolls his shoulders, possibly to shake off a bad memory – if the tension Dan noticed in them was anything to go by – before continuing, “I was taught exactly which questions to ask, when to ask them, who to question, on and on to get information, secrets, and leverage to use as I saw fit. He would have a member of his staff hide something each day and I’d have to question and talk to everyone in order to find it.”

Jonah looks up and Dan meets his eyes, “I _always_ found it.”

Jonah holds his hands out like he’s just revealed everything, and Dan knows he’s a smart man, but even he can’t figure out how the fuck Jonah’s past relates to the here and now. Dan grips the shirt a little tighter in frustration, wrinkles forming instantly.

 _Must be expensive_. Dan thinks idly.

“Anyway,” Jonah shrugs, shoulders still a little gangly and awkward like he never truly grew into them, Dan notices.

He sets the shirt aside to dry out and crosses his arms when he looks back at Jonah.

“Anyway?” He questions, urging Jonah to finally make a point, mind still reeling from the insight into Jonah’s past. He wonders if he even knows Jonah the way he thought he did.

Jonah looks at Dan and smiles, almost _fondly_. Dan ignores the way it makes his chest tighten and presses on.

“Is there a fucking point to this or are you just going to be as vague as possible and keep smiling like a fucking weirdo?”

Jonah laughs and glides easily off the counter and closer to Dan with ease.

“The point is that contrary to popular opinion, present company included, I’m very fucking good at what I do and there are a lot of people out there who owe me.”

Dan stares in brief shock at the unrelenting confidence in Jonah’s voice.

“Now hand me my shirt so we can leave this shithole.”

And just like that odd spell he was under was broken by the smarmy smile on Jonah’s face.

He throws the previously stained shirt at Jonah’s face and clears his throat, pushing everything that’s happened in the last few hours to the back of his mind and focusing on the task ahead.

“Where are we going?”


	3. Don’t Recognize Anybody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience!  
> Working more fully on this now that I have a bit more time.  
> Please let me know what you think, because this chapter was a bit of a challenge.  
> \- Faye.

They end up heading toward Jonah’s apartment because every other place Jonah suggested was either too corporate or too hipster for Dan.

So, Jonah pulled through a drive-thru Starbucks and ordered for both of them just to piss Dan off. The best of both worlds.

He smiles when Dan adds a cheese danish to the order before they put it through.

He smiles wider when he hears Dan mutter, “shut up,” under his breath.

They ride in near-silence to his apartment, some random radio news program and Dan’s occasional sigh or grunt being the only sound in the car.

Jonah keeps looking over to Dan who hasn’t taken his eyes off his phone since they got in and notices the slight ticks giving away his discomfort. Shaking leg? Check. Rolling neck? Check. Accelerated breathing? Check.

Jonah knows that Dan thinks he perfected the veil of indifference. It’s only in knowing Dan so well and being so observant of the man next to him, that Jonah is able to see how thin that veil is.

Jonah forsakes verbally acknowledging it for now. They were going to have breakdown the entirety of Dan Egan over the next 72 hours and that’s when they can discuss it. He does have a moment of regret for sharing his past with Dan back at his apartment, but if he was going to get anything out of Dan, then he needs the other man to feel as though they were on a level playing field. The panic attack still left the hairs on Jonah’s neck standing up in tension. It was intense and though Jonah’s had his fair share of experience with it, he understands now why Dan is so wound up all the time. They’d need to discuss that too and establish triggers and codes, but all in due time. For now, Jonah watched him as much as possible to make sure Dan didn’t take another dive into the deep end and throw himself out of the car.

“Why are you taking this exit? You don’t live in Adams Morgan.”

Jonah laughed, “Yes, I do. I moved out of that shithouse months ago. I was only there so long because rent was dirt cheap while my new place was renovated.”

He sneaks a look at Dan who is watching the town pass by as Jonah drives.

“How the fuck can you afford it?” Dan replies moments letter, skeptical.

Jonah smiles, cheeks warming from less than humble pride. Then it falls when he realizes just how much he’s been underestimated by the Veep office and apparently, Dan himself.

He replies with slight ice in his voice, “The previous owner owed me a favor.”

He feels Dan’s eyes on him and wants to turn to see the look on his face, find whatever is present there, but instead, he pulls into his designated parking spot and kills the ignition.

“You have your own parking spot?” Dan asks, voice pitched slightly higher in disbelief.

“Do you always ask so many obvious questions? Or has the illiteracy epidemic in our country reached you too?” He scoffs, a little annoyed at Dan’s continued disbelief and pulls himself out of the car.

Jonah walks toward the front gate, and he knows Dan’s curiosity is going to keep him no more than five feet behind Jonah.

The door attendant opens the door for them, and Jonah smiles apologetically at him when Dan mutters an annoyed, “Jesus Christ,” under his breath.

“Thanks Carl, I’ll see you Sunday?”

“You know it, Mr. Ryan, wife and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Jonah laughs warmly, claps a friendly hand on Carl’s shoulder and meets Dan at the elevators where the brunette is frantically pushing the up button.

Jonah leans against the wall casually and crosses his arms, amusement thriving at Dan’s clear discomfort, and states, “You know, statistically, pushing the button faster or more times doesn’t make the elevator come quicker.”

Jonah is slightly concerned with the caustic and frantic executions of Dan’s movement, but Dan doesn’t miss a beat as the doors open.

“You know, statistically, one out of one Jonah Ryan’s ends up with my fist up their ass.”

Jonah watches with glee as Dan realizes the implication of what he said but doesn’t retract it.

He laughs in delight as they get near his floor.

“That actually defies the definition of a statistic, Dan. That would imply I’ve had enough fists up my ass to create a data pool.”

Dan replies quickly looking directly at Jonah with the intense focus.

With calm and poise, he asks, “Haven’t you?”

It’s supposed to be an insult, Jonah knows that, but the level of Dan’s gaze and the cadence of the question has him frozen.

Jonah’s throat tightens with nerves and he’s glad when the elevator dings on his floor.

He exits first without another word, missing Dan’s smug grin fall and eyebrows furrow.

The sudden tension in Jonah’s shoulders doesn’t alleviate the closer he gets to his front door. His is one of only two apartments on the large twelfth floor and he can sense Dan’s growing unease as he becomes aware of that fact.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Jonah smiles despite the tension still tight in his shoulders and travelling to his neck. His apartment is his one escape. The one place where he doesn’t have to be “on,” and can actually relax when he finds the time. It’s his haven and he’s apprehensive about letting Dan into that. He knows it’s silly, but letting Dan into his apartment is relinquishing more trust than telling him about his past.

“Any time today dickhead or are you about to break into someone else’s apartment because I still don’t believe _you_ live _here.”_

Then again, a little gloating never hurt.

He unlocks the door with ease and holds it open with a flourish for Dan.

He’s not too proud to admit that he basks in the slack jawed response stuck on Dan’s face as he takes in the place.

Deep, chocolate brown hardwood covers the floors throughout the two-bedroom home. The entryway opens to an open concept main area. There are white marble countertops and new appliances in the kitchen that are bordered by emerald green cabinets. The living room has always doubled as Jonah’s office, so he aesthetically combined the two spaces into a functional one. The painted royal blue desk lies directly along the wall behind a large, long grey couch. Large TV and gaming systems placed neatly among the built ins Jonah had put in and designed specifically for his home. In the center of the living room is a large coffee table that matched his desk, though it was difficult to see with the amount of articles, photos, and open files that littered the object.

Jonah moves to the kitchen for a glass of water as Dan continues to short-circuit at the new development. If Jonah wasn’t so proud of the manifestation of all his hard work, he’d be a little offended that Dan can’t marry the sophistication of his home with Jonah himself. While it’s not a mansion or overtly extravagant, anyone could see the significant investment made in the apartment. Jonah spent a pretty penny getting this place to what he wanted, but it was worth it. If solely for Dan’s reaction alone.

“So,” he interrupts, they really did have a lot of work to do, “if you wanna have a seat, we can dive right in.”

Dan’s jaw clicks hard as he shuts his mouth. Then he narrows his eyes at Jonah who stares back with calm confidence as he stands at full height. He wasn’t going to be intimidate in his own home, let alone by Dan.

Dan must recognize it because he falls onto the couch with a sigh and throws his head in his hands.

Jonah grabs another glass of a water and hands it to Dan who takes it silently.

They sit in awkward silence, only the occasional sip sounding out in the apartment.

He begins gently, “So, the first interview is early tomorrow morning with Chris from the station that has that new test segment they put in before rundown setup.”

Dan looks at Jonah with a withering look.

“I know, but we have to start somewhere and the station manager, Cindy, owes me and I already sent her the only questions he’s allowed to ask, so we basically control the interview. Which is perfect to establish the narrative and because this will be the practice run before CNN on Thursday.”

Jonah watches as Dan’s face shifts from processing to understanding to panic.

Immediately he places a hand on Dan’s leg then shoulder in an abortive move to be as professional as possible.

“That’s why we’re here. To prep until you can recite this shit backwards.”

The rapid breaths slow, but not enough for Jonah’s liking.

He isn’t sure why he thinks his next words will soothe but is pleasantly surprised when they do.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Dan calms and sets the glass on an open file of a lobbyist he vaguely remembers.

After a moment, he turns to a patient and calm Jonah, not for the first time thinking just how much he doesn’t know about the man next to him, and nods.

“Let’s get started.”

* * *

It’s nearly two in the morning before they get to anything that would require Jonah’s help. Despite everything he thinks and knows about the man bedside him, he’s always been impressed by Dan’s ability to quickly adapt to change in conversation – in this case, interviewing – or interruptions at the blink of an eye. No amount of preparation or “training” could teach someone how to do that naturally.

They’re taking a break from the repetitive questions, when Jonah’s curiosity piques.

“Why were you told to attend the fundraiser?” He poses, genuinely interested, as Dan’s blinking slows even further from exhaustion.

“Is that a real or practice question?” Dan replies with a sleepy lull in his voice, head lolling to the side and eyes meeting Jonah’s evenly.

“Both.”

“Really, I wasn’t. Amy was supposed to go but then she didn’t want to, so she pawned off on Mike. Only Mike had something planned with Wendy that I don’t care enough to remember. We all turned to Sue, who had already left by that point and there was no reason to send Gary and Ben just walked away when we asked if someone really had to attend.”

Jonah laughs softly, and watches as Dan sinks further into Jonah’s – obnoxiously expensive – couch and lets his legs fall apart. He swallows heavily and distracts himself from Dan’s movements with the story being told.

“And?”

“We did what any reasonable person would do in the situation. We drew straws.”

Jonah snorts, undignified but entirely sincere. Dan turns to him suddenly and rather than ridicule him, which Jonah expects, Dan just joins in the laughter.

“I know, I know, but it seemed like the only viable option at the time. Mike had to cut the straws twice because he thought the point of the game was that we all got straws and whoever had drawn the worst one, had to go.”

Jonah laughs harder, lungs straining at the effort, and so does Dan.

Between laughter Jonah realizes something.

He tries to maintain his composure long enough to say, “W-wait, so your career with the Veep ended because you literally drew the short straw?”

Dan’s laughter cuts out harshly at Jonah’s comment and the taller man thinks he’s overstepped his mark.

He watches Dan’s face turn from confusion to understanding and then back to amusement.

“Fuck me, you’re absolutely right.”

The laughter that comes now is louder and more carefree, and Jonah stares for a moment before joining in because he’s never seen Dan like this before and needs a moment to register it.

Once their laughter eventually dies down, Dan turns to look at Jonah who is reviewing the questions for the morning. Like he does with almost anyone, he takes a moment to assess the man beside him. Full head of hair, in dire need of a haircut. No signs of gray like Dan has secretly been trying to hide whenever one sprouts. At some point in the night, Jonah changed into dark grey sweatpants and a matching thermal that looked far too soft and Dan isn’t proud that he had to physically stop himself from reaching out to touch it. Everything that’s happen over the last two days has kept him in a hazed state of one extreme or the other: total panic or absolute apathy. It doesn’t surprise him that his impulse control is little to none. In his element, his home, Jonah has a calm grace about him that makes Dan feel like he’s sitting beside a stranger and not the gangly walking disaster that he’s known. It’s jarring to consider Jonah in this new, competent, light, and the exhaustion of the day hits Dan in full force.

It’s only then he realizes that he’s been staring intensely at Jonah for the better half of five minutes straight and he recoils when he finally comes back to himself and realizes Jonah is staring back just as intensely.

Jonah blinks, dazed for a moment too long, then stands up abruptly when he comes back to himself. His mind was trying to piece together what just happened. He looked up from the questions, the apartment too silent, to find Dan staring him like…like he knows he always stared at Dan when he wasn’t looking. Then he corrects himself and shuts down that train of thought, both for the success of what they’re doing and for Jonah’s own sanity.

He wants to make a joke or, you know, say anything helpful, to assuage the awkward and uncomfortable tension that’s suddenly filled the room.

He settles for, “We should get some sleep. We have to be at the studio by six.”

Dan just nods from the couch, suit rumpled, and looking like he’s seconds away from going insane.

Jonah can sympathize.

“I’ll grab you some clothes and blankets, I’ve fallen asleep on that couch enough to know how comfortable it is. We’ll get you a fresh suit in the morning.”

This time Dan responds with a collected, even, “Okay, sounds good.”

If there’s one thing they had in common, it was their ability to bounce back.

Jonah nods and without preamble, moves to grab everything from his closet. He returns with a prison parcel full of a pillow, blankets, change of clothes, and toothbrush.

He hands it over and perhaps it’s the silence of the room, or the lingering tension, or the fact that Dan refuses to make eye contact, but Jonah can’t ignore the way Dan’s hands linger on his.

Before Jonah can even think about doing something irrevocable, he takes a step back and cools his features.

He claps, the sounds deafening in the silent space.

“Alright,” he begins, far too cheery for the late hour, “You know where the bathroom is and my, uh, bedroom is at the end of the hall. Help yourself to anything here. We leave at five.”

It’s perfunctory and just detached enough for both of them to ignore the last awkward ten minutes or so fully.

Dan replies with a succinct, but firm, “Okay.”

Jonah nods and, not too slowly, turns to rush to his room.

But, for the final surprise of this whirlwind of a day, Dan speaks once more.

“Jonah?”

The taller man freezes. He’s heard Dan say his name plenty, but something in the way dan says it now, has Jonah’s heart racing.

But he’s a professional, and when he turns, it’s with a gentle, _neutral_ smile.

“Yeah?” He asks with calm despite his adrenaline spike.

Their eyes meet and Dan’s eyes are too wide and vulnerable for Jonah to think about anything else.

Until Dan sighs with genuine relief.

Then speaks, quiet and small, but so sincere that it take Jonah a moment to realize he isn’t mocking him.

_“Thank you.”_

Jonah barely manages to hold in his reaction. The open relief, gratitude, and vulnerability from the last person Jonah’s ever expected to receive it from is more heady than any drug.

It’s only the lifetime of maintaining composure and the upper hand that has him recovering in the blink of an eye.

He smiles, warmer and wider, and nods.

He replies with a simple, _“Of course.”_

And if Dan doesn’t notice the weight of importance Jonah tries to place on the two simple words, then it’s a miracle.

Jonah walks to his room and as closes the door behind him, he sinks to the ground in relief, wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into.


	4. Just The Same Old Empty Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we’re really feeling it now mr. krabs

Jonah is certain that Dan is about to commit several increasingly violent felonies on live television. His leg has been shaking since before the last commercial break and if he rolls his shoulders one more time, people are going to think he has medical condition.

Jonah knows that they are throwing themselves into this, but he is also realizing that they may have underestimated how much the story has built in last 18 hours alone. They prepped for any and every question, continuing until the moment they stepped in the building.

* * *

They had stood outside for a long moment, Jonah had already pulled himself together before they left. In that moment, he tried to do the same for Dan who paced while Jonah watched him rant.

“I haven’t done an interview like this in years. Press during campaigns was fine because I told them what they wanted to hear and the interest wasn’t, you know, actually _me_ , it was in what I said.”

Dan looked quickly at Jonah for confirmation but didn’t wait to find it before he continued.

“But _now_ , it _is_ about me _and_ what I’m saying and everything can be taken out of context and they’re just waiting for me to fuck up and you and I both know that I’m proficient at fucking up, so it’s bound to happen.”

Jonah crossed his arms and waited patiently.

“I mean we’ve prepped but this is like the opening pitch, kind of sets the tone of the game, you know? You probably don’t watch baseball. I don’t even really watch baseball. What time is it?”

Jonah watched in amusement as Dan’s anxiety-ridden rambling came to an abrupt end.

The sun had been barely peeking up from horizon and the mixture of blues and blacks made Dan’s features harsher and more dramatic.

He pushed off of the railing outside the entrance and in two strong strides, stood tall in front of Dan.

Then Jonah reached forward, no fumbling or nerves, not when he was in this mindset, and straightened Dan’s tie that had gone askew during the pacing.

“It’s time to head in and get you prepped. We’ve been over these questions, you know them front to back. And to answer your question, I don’t watch baseball. I’m more of a hockey guy.”

He set his hands gently onto Dan’s shoulder and stared directly into the shorter man’s eyes.

“You’ve got this and you’re not gonna fuck up.”

Jonah pulled back and clapped a hand on Dan’s shoulder once more before he turned and headed toward the entrance.

He smiled to himself as he heard a small “I got this,” whispered behind him.

* * *

Still, while Jonah could account for most things, once the cameras were on, it was all in Dan’s hands.

Even with the help of the station manager, live television was known for its unpredictability, so was Dan.

As the moment, the journalist, if you could call him that, was pushing the very strict limits Jonah set before the interview began.

And he knew it was only a matter of time before Dan would lose it. His leg had been shaking since the third question and Jonah could see Dan pick at his fingers uncontrollably.

Jonah bit at his own thumb and continued watching for a time he should intervene.

“Mr. Egan, Selina Meyer has released a statement claiming no involvement with the event of the nineteenth. Is this true? Were you acting of your own volition?”

And there was the final straw, Jonah could see Dan was going to botch the question with his temper, so he turns quickly and bursts into the control room.

“I know that little shitstain can hear me. Cut to commercial or another segment now before I have you all fired.”

He doesn’t bother to spare another glance before he’s typing away on his phone with a scathing message to Cindy comparing the journalist to an aborted fetus and her competence and future success to a taco bell dumpster. He hits send just as he hears the music cuing the segment change and watches Dan stalk over to him in anger and the journalist to the control room.

“That fucking prick just wants a soundbite. I was about to strangle the fucker with my microphone wire.

Jonah laughs and looks up to see Dan biting his lip in frustration.

“I know you were, I saw.”

Dan raises his eyebrows in question, “Saw what?”

Jonah stares for a moment like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t and before Dan can question it, Jonah’s already talking.

“Your leg was shaking like it wanted to run away from your body, you kept rolling your shoulders like you have a degenerative disorder, and you’re not as good at hiding your emotions as you think you are…not to me at least.”

Dan eyes Jonah for minute, calculating and analyzing always, before he responds, “At least another segment interrupted it.”

Jonah smiles again, “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

Dan’s eyes narrow in question, “What? You did that?”

Jonah detects a hint of pride in Dan’s questions and ducks his head in less than humble embarrassment.

“Yeah, I’m the reason Cindy even works here and she promised someone competent and she didn’t deliver. Consider them both gone.”

“Just like that?”

Jonah’s smile turns wicked, “Just like that.” He snaps his fingers and looks behind Dan to see Cindy stomping her way toward him.

He moves around in front of Dan in some odd inherent need to protect him. He ignores that thought in favor of focusing on Cindy.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve, Jonah!” She shouts even though she’s close enough not to.

Jonah pulls at his shirt sleeves to straighten them in favor of acknowledging her.

“I told you what was required and what was off limits. They were barely halfway through the interview before he crossed the line. It’s not on me that you don’t have your anchors under control.”

He watches Cindy’s eyes narrow, but after a moment she claps her hands together.

The sound startles Dan who unknowingly grabs the back of Jonah’s suit jacket in response.

“Alright, fire Chris, he’s new and no one will know or care he’s gone. Despite my heavy warnings, he still thinks guerrilla journalism is alive and well.”

Jonah nods for her to continue.

“Let Bill keep me on and I will _ensure_ negative coverage on Meyers’ and Walters’ sides until the end of this. After all, you’re the one who taught me exclusivity is a two way street.”

She winks and Jonah rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the way Dan’s moves closer to his side.

He pretends to think it over, acting as though this wasn’t his plan when he first made the offer to her, and looks to Dan to gauge his reaction.

“And the interview from today?” Dan asks firmly, if not a bit aggressive, despite the hand still grasping Jonah’s suit.

Jonah hides a proud smile.

“Will be discussed in each program today going forward, that there was an emergency drill at the station and you were too busy to remain and finish the interview today. You can come back at any time, of course. We will deny or discuss any interviews from the other parties should you wish to.”

She looks between them for confirmation and Jonah’s focus shifts from the warmth of Dan’s hand on his back to the situation at hand.

“Done.”

Cindy nods and puts her hand forward to shake.

They both shake her hand and Jonah nods in approval.

“Bill will be pleased, I knew you’d be perfect for this job.” Jonah smiles when Cindy laughs.

“Fuck off, and don’t test me like that again.” She laughs in relief despite the strong language.

“Don’t blame me, it was his idea for it to happen eventually, the opportunity just presented itself.”

Jonah feels Dan’s hand drop and it’s like ice down his spine.

“That’s seems to happen a lot around you.” Cindy remarks with a knowing smirk as she crosses her arms.

Jonah shrugs off the comment, “I’ll talk to you soon. You still owe me drinks.”

“We’ll see,” she turns to Dan then, “It was great meeting you Dan, truly. Sorry you had to be the guinea pig.”

Dan nods and says nothing more than a small thank you before stepping back to pretend to check his phone.

Jonah could feel the tension rising from where Dan’s hand met his back to his shoulders to his neck.

“We have to be somewhere else,” Jonah shakes her hand again, “Tell Bill to call me and we’ll set something up.”

Cindy walks them out and the walk from the parking lot to the car is complete with pressurized silence that Jonah is sure will explode the moment they get in the car.

The moment the car doors shut, he braces himself for impact.. Instead, he receives absolute silence.

He’s not sure which is worse.

He opens and closes his mouth several times, longing to say something but knowing nothing would be right without knowing Dan’s headspace.

He spends the silence thinking about the next step.

They’re on the road for ten minutes before Jonah realizes he’s not sure where they go from here, literally and figuratively. 

He coughs, the sound ricocheting against every part of the car.

“Am I taking you to my pl-.”

“You have got _some_ fucking nerve.” Dan growls out.

“Let me ex-.” Jonah tried.

“Explain? Is that what you were going to say? Explain what exactly? How you told me, _convinced_ me to trust you all so you could pull one over on me? What did you get out of it, huh?”

Jonah doesn’t try to answer because he knows the truth will hurt more than silence right now and he’s trying to figure a way to explain it without sounding like a dick.

Then Dan’s voice quiet in an instant and he sounds so hurt and small that Jonah has to force himself to stop from reaching out.

“You know I expected something like this from _them._ I really thought someone was finally on my side.”

They ride in the rest of the trip in silence to Dan’s apartment. The tension is so thick that Jonah finds himself swallowing heavily at every red light. 

He pulls into a spot four doors down from Dan’s and kills the engine.

He’s grateful when Dan doesn’t make a move to leave.

Jonah wipes slightly sweaty hands on his pants in an aborted move to calm his nerves. He has a feeling of annoyance strike him that Dan remains one of the only people that can do this to him. That can make him feel like he has something to lose, like he doesn’t have the upper hand.

“I am on your side and I might be the only one.”

Jonah thinks he could have started that better but continues anyway.

“I told you to trust me and I know it seems like I’ve betrayed it and maybe I should’ve told you what the real plan was, but I didn’t think you could handle it on top of what you already had to do. Believe me or don’t, but everything that just happened was all in your best interest. I knew Chris would try to trip you up and I knew I would cut it off as soon as we got there. I also know how desperate Cindy is in keeping her job at the station and that Bill, the owner, would want to test her resolve.”

“And I was the test case, that it?”

Dan was angry again and that was good. Jonah could handle angry Dan more easily than defeated Dan.

“Yes and no. Yes it ended up being you, but no it wasn’t _supposed_ to be you. It just worked out that way.”

“What way?” Dan asks and crosses his arms.

Jonah sighs and pulls his tie down and unbuttons his top buttons. He doesn’t miss that way Dan’s eyes watch the fluid movements, but ignores it to finishing explaining.

“You were probably too stuck in your head after, but we got the major support we need to set the tone of the narrative. Your interview, while shorter than what we wanted, says exactly what we need you to. That your attendance was all Selena’s idea and judgement call. Despite her statement, her approval ratings are down so significantly that it’s bound to be ignored or not trusted. Judge Walters’ camp hasn’t released a statement so there’s nothing but your word. And as as the only person from that night offering any public explanation, your word is _solid_ _fucking_ _gold_.”

The two men are quiet for a long moment while Jonah watches as Dan finally puts the pieces together. It would’ve been easier for Jonah to explain everything, but he wanted to make sure his confidence in Dan was well placed. It also makes was Jonah says less of an excuse and more of an expectation.

“And now we have the entire network putting our story in front as truth and theirs in the shadows.” Dan whispers like he’s discovered some great conspiracy.

Jonah nods, “Exactly, and I may have forgotten to mention that that particular station is national, not regional.”

He watches a wild smile spread across Dan’s lips and returns with one of his own.

“You fucking genius,” Dan gasps out in relief.

Jonah turns his head and as his eyes lock with the man’s beside him — the two of them staring at one another with an unusual, but not unwelcome shared pride — Jonah feels his stomach drop in sudden anticipation.

Dan’s smile slowly shifts from wide and wild to soft and sincere and Jonah licks his lips.

For a moment, he allows himself to bask in the attention as Dan’s eyes lock on the movement.

There’s a charge as their eyes lock again and Jonah watches Dan’s throat work as he swallows harshly.

Before Jonah has a moment to even think about doing something absolutely reckless, there’s a loud, crescendoing knock on Dan’s window.

They both jump and refocus their gazes on the intruder outside of their refuge.

Jonah’s jaw clicks shut with tension the instant he recognizes the shock of blonde hair.

_Amy._


	5. See These People, They Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy  
> strap in buckaroos, this chapter was a tricky one which is why it's shorter than others, but we'll be back to regularly schedule chapters in the next one.  
> as always please lmk what you think and all that jazz  
> oh and i'm so excited for the next few chapters...

Jonah climbs out of the car slowly, regaining composure from the sudden intrusion and from whatever the hell just almost happen with Dan in the car. He shakes it off quickly and looks toward the two across the car hood, already in the middle of a conversation.

He sighs heavily.

Jonah has always respected Amy, even admired her once or twice, but he’s never trusted her.

She could be ruthless, do what she needed to do to get the job done, something that Jonah approved. But ever since he’d known her, she always had a lingering sense of remorse in those decisions; some odd, half-hidden, self-condemnation in her actions. After he first witnessed the recanting behavior, he instantly knew he could never trust her. Her actions were sometimes too rash and uncalculated for Jonah to be able to let her in. Not that she ever tried, but the point remained, he didn’t want her. With the way Dan had jumped both away from Jonah and out of the car, it seems like Dan doesn’t feel the same way.

Jonah is secure enough to admit that he was always envious of their strong camaraderie, despite the clear competition and contention with one another. Dan would let things with Amy slide that he would strike others out for. It was a weird relationship, but still somehow endearing and Jonah knew that no matter what, Dan would always have a soft spot for her.

Still, the audacity of Amy to show up, especially now, make Jonah’s stomach turn. He was expecting someone from the Veep office to show up, knew it most likely would be Amy, but just wasn’t expecting them so soon, or for Dan to be so willing to engage with them.

He looks toward Dan’s front door a little down the way and when he spots something on the stairs, he scoffs waiting until the right time to mention it.

He walks to the other side of his car to lean against the hood, a few feet from where the two ex-somethings were still talking.

“That’s not…” Dan interrupts.

“No, of course not, but then it means…” Amy interrupts Dan’s interruption.

“Exactly!” They both exclaim at the same time.

Jonah rolls his eyes and does little to cover the annoyed groan that escapes his throat.

The silence that follows is uncomfortable at the least and unbearable at best.

“Jonah.” Amy declares it as both a greeting, question, and statement all in one.

“Amy,” Jonah fakes a smile and know she sees through it, “What brings you to this particular part of town?”

He crosses his arms and notes the clench in her jaw at the question, like she doesn’t know the answer herself or hasn’t figured it out yet.

“Dan,” she turns her attention back to the brunette who looked frantically between Jonah and Amy.

“I’m not going to pretend like we both don’t know why I’m here. You deserve better,” she makes a point to look at Jonah before refocusing on Dan, “which is why I’m here to offer you your job back.”

Jonah stands quickly, right hand clenched around his phone. He hadn’t anticipated this and hates being caught by surprise. More so, he hates the way Dan’s silence makes him feel betrayed.

“You have _some fucking nerve.”_ Jonah interferes, cold and precise.

“You are not part of,” Amy holds her hand to Jonah and the taller man interrupts.

“After you raked him through the mud? And somehow you just manage to pop up an hour after he has an interview? The standard operating procedure there, huh _Ames?_ Trying to cover up _her_ fucking tracks.”

He wishes he didn’t sound so angry or so protective, but at the moment he can’t be bothered to hide it.

Most of all he wishes Dan would say something, anything other than stare.

“That’s rich coming from you Jonah,” she scoffs, “makes me wonder just _exactly_ why you’re here? You really think I’m stupid enough to believe you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

She looks at Dan then raises an eyebrow in both response and challenge. Jonah maintains a stern expression but still swallows harshly at the implication.

“Okay, both of you knock it the fuck off.” Dan’s tight voice cuts in.

Jonah’s stomach drops when he meets Dan’s eyes. It’s impossible to miss the confusion and uncertainty in them.

“Amy, I don’t know what game you’re playing,” He throws a hand up when Amy tries to cut in, “but I’m far too tired to even begin to think about anything you just said.”

He doesn’t have enough time to think about it because Amy is speaking again.

“Look, the offer is only good for the next few days. That’s as long as I can keep Selina from going more mental than she already is,” She grinds her teeth and for a moment Jonah feels sympathy for what Amy is handling, “You’re needed there. It’s where you belong.”

Then the sympathy is gone.

He crosses his arms again and looks back to the stairs to Dan’s building.

“Where he belongs? Then why is there a box of his stuff sitting outside his building?”

Amy’s eyes nearly bulge out of her skull and Jonah can’t help the self-satisfied smirk that forms on his lips.

Dan pushes between them, walks until he sees the box then turns back, eyes glossy and chest heaving.

_Fuck._

He takes three longs strides to reach Dan and tries to get him to refocus, but the moment Jonah touches him, Dan recoils.

“Fuck off,” Dan growls out and looks from Jonah to Amy, “Both of you just fuck off.”

Jonah sighs, he can’t help but feel anger and disappointment that Dan didn’t turn Amy down outright, but he knows not to push it.

Instead, he offers the only thing he can.

“Make sure you eat something and get as much sleep as you can. You know where to find me. _If_ you need me.”

Jonah reaches out again, but stops just short of contact.

Then he turns and walks back to his car in silence.

Amy was already down the street, yelling into her phone.

Dan’s gone before Jonah even opens his door.

The silence in his car is too loud, so he plays his music louder and drives back to his apartment.

* * *

When he gets back, he plugs his phone in on the counter and sets about cleaning up the mess from last night.

As hard as Jonah tries, he can’t stop thinking about everything from the last few days, as well as the last few years.

Each part of his house has lingering traces of Dan and it’s opening the part of Jonah’s mind he’s kept locked away for far too long than he’s willing to admit.

That Dan may just be more to him than whatever he was now. That the parts of Dan that linger in Jonah’s life may exist in more places than his home.

It’s a heady experience, something Jonah was always aware of, but never fully acknowledged. It was always too unnerving, too dangerous, and too complicated. He wants to fight it, but with the way the last two days have been, everything he’s learned and shared, he instead finds himself giving in and embracing the truth about how he feels…how he’s felt.

He thinks back to when he first felt it and smiles as he throws the blankets Dan used into the washer.

* * *

_It was a random day in June, on what felt like the hottest day on Earth and the only thing Jonah wanted was to do was finish this meeting and go home. The lobbyist, Chad or Chuck or something, had promised the meeting would be quick but it had been nearly an hour and he showed no signs of stopping._

_More so, Jonah decided he wouldn’t take the offer after only five minutes and now he was stuck in the mid-afternoon D.C. sun in the middle of June at a meeting that should’ve ended before it began._

_He sighed inwardly as Charles or Chris ordered another drink and resigned himself for at least another half hour of a half-assed pitch when a loud, familiar voice drew his attention._

_He looked toward the sound and, at the time, had groaned at the presence of the other man._

_“Hey, Jonah! I didn’t know you liked this place,” Dan fake-friend voice always sounds like nails on a chalkboard to Jonah._

_Jonah faked a smile in return, “I don’t, this was Charlie’s idea.”_

_“It’s, uh, Cameron, actually.”_

_Jonah ignored him in favor of Dan, who was clearly fighting the compulsion to check his phone._

_“What brings you here? Veep on a juice cleanse?”_

_He watched Dan’s tongue glide across almost too-white teeth before smiling sharply._

_“I’m actually here for you.”_

_Jonah's eyebrows furrowed in confusion._

_“Do you ne-,” Cameron tried to ask but is ignored._

_“What for? POTUS is out of the country until next week. Is your office on fire already?”_

_Jonah laughed, smarmy and a bit too loud, but he’s tired and hot and annoyed._

_Dan then did something that took Jonah completely by surprise._

_He pulled Jonah’s chair out and to the side in one swift movement, then placed his hands on the armrest high enough that Jonah had to readjust._

_Then Dan had leaned in far closer than was necessary and threatened Jonah with something that was so inconsequential that Jonah erased it from memory._

_But what he could never and would never forget the way his heart raced and breath quickened at the intensity of the action. He couldn’t look away and was certain anyone who watched the scene play out could clearly see the effect Dan had on him. He’d never been more turned on in his life._

_And in the moment, Jonah realized that his feelings towards Dan were far more complicated than he originally thought. And it seems they only got more and more complicated as time went on._

_But Jonah compartmentalized it all for the sake of his career and pride. It wasn’t like it was ever going to be anything serious, so there was no need to give in to it._

* * *

He laughs, bitter and short, at the naivety of his former self as he finished washing the dishes. Dan had always been one of the only people that could really get under his skin and it seemed he was there to stay, only digging in deeper and deeper as time went on. Jonah couldn’t regulate the development of his feelings, but he could maintain how he dealt with them. And that became his standard operating procedure and it worked. But, two days ago, as he sat waiting for that interview to start, with the interviewer talking about how the mighty fall, those feelings resurfaced in full force, and Jonah couldn’t have stopped himself from defending Dan even if he tried.

Since then, he’s walked that line far too closely than he was comfortable with. He never told anyone about his uncle, but an ounce of vulnerability, however indirect, from Dan and he’d given in. It was that giving in that terrified Jonah. The only reason he was able to do his job so well was through steel will and thick skin. He couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. He couldn’t afford to get involved.

There was too much at stake. Yet, Jonah’s mind keeps returning to what almost happened in the car earlier. He was certain that he would’ve crossed that line had Amy not interrupted.

As he reclines on his couch, where Dan slept on not sixteen hours ago, Jonah falls asleep wondering whether or not Dan would’ve crossed that line, too.

And as he sleeps, his phone vibrates silently on the counter over and over again.


	6. And I Don’t Know Who To Believe Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i promised myself i would post this before the new year, but here we are.  
> i had a different chapter written, but i didn’t like it in terms of story progression.  
> so enjoy the new one. i made it nice and long(ish) since y’all have been so patient and because dan egan is a disaster.  
> as alway, let me know what you think please!  
> hope you all had a lovely new year and may this year treat you with far more kindness and love than the previous one.
> 
> \- love, faye.

Dan slams his phone on the counter, with far too much force for the delicate object, as his call went unanswered again.

He tries and fails to take deep calming breaths, but since he crashed into his apartment, he hasn’t been able to do so.

Everything that’s happened in the last two days has turned Dan’s world upside down and his carefully cultivated control has devolved into an odd mix of despondence and disconcert.

Trying to find his footing has felt like standing on the cracked ice of a frozen pond. He knows he needs to move, but his fear of falling prevents him from doing so.

His career, more so, his ambition has been the constant upon which he has built his life. Everything else could be absolute shit, so long as he held his position. If he held that, he held control.

After the interview and listening to Jonah, he was ready to take a step further, one that looked more stable and secure.

* * *

Jonah wakes suddenly, the late afternoon sun forcing him to close his eyes again quickly.

He sits up slowly, stretches catlike with limbs sprawling in every direction before checking his watch.

_Sunday_

_4:09 p.m._

He shoots up in surprise. He smacks his right hand against his forehead before pulling his left toward him and harshly rubbing his tired eyes. He’d been so caught up in everything with Dan that he’d completely forgotten about his weekly dinner with Carl, the doorman, and his wife, Layla.

He rushes to the fridge, yells at Alexa to play his favorite cooking playlist, and fall into a familiar and enjoyable pattern of making dinner.

Everything…and _everyone_ else forgotten for the moment.

* * *

Dan trades his button down and slacks for his his favorite t-shirt with a severely faded “Rochester, NY” on the front in what used to be navy blue lettering and a standard pair of dark wash jeans.

He catches his reflection for a second and is reminded of the minute and a half he spent staring at Jonah staring at him, wondering what exactly Jonah had been looking at before Amy had shown up.

Despite trying otherwise, Amy’s always been a blind spot for him. He supposes it spurs from a shared suffering of who they work – _worked –_ for and with and their rivalry was laced with an unspoken, though however misplace, respect for one another. They thought the same way and were equally indifferent to the same things. It was their similarities and equal ambition that, to Dan, was the source of their animosity.

Still, her offer completely threw him off guard and there was something about it that didn’t sit right with Dan. It felt like, even without the box full of his office shit sitting on his front step, Amy was pulling the idea out of desperation. He knows she wasn’t _sent_ to do that, but did it anyway. What he couldn’t figure out was _why?_

After she asked, he immediately locked up and couldn’t think beyond it.

 _Then_ he couldn’t think beyond Amy and Jonah arguing, though he does remember the one thing that lingers loud and clear in his head, playing over and over again.

_“That’s rich coming from you Jonah…makes me wonder just exactly why you’re here? You really think I’m stupid enough to believe you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”_

And that’s when Dan knew he needed to intervene. Not because they were arguing. Amy would always be arguing with someone, but because that’s the one thing that’s kept Dan on guard. Since the morning that the giant burst into his apartment, Dan’s single constant thought is _why_ Jonah is trying to build him up when they’ve done nothing but tear each other down.

If Amy was a difficult read, Jonah was in a whole other fucking language. It just didn’t make sense in the real world. Dan’s never given Jonah a reason to trust, support, or otherwise help him unless he’d been desperate. Even then, there was some beneficial transaction between them, almost always in Dan’s favor. Though with what he’s seen of Jonah’s work, his _real_ work, perhaps that was the outcome the giant wanted. But with everything that had been going on in the moment, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear Jonah’s answer.

* * *

Jonah laughs as he head-bangs around the kitchen to his favorite song. The chili was simmering down and he’d just placed the honeyed cornbread in the oven. Layla had specifically requested it last weekend and Jonah could deny her nothing because she and Carl were both incredibly kind and incredibly invaluable.

While it was true that Jonah got his place through a favor owed, nothing he did was by spontaneous nature. Everything had to be calculated and his _move_ was quite calculated as his building housed no less than 20 different lobbyists, liaisons, and little secrets kept by political powers in town. And _all_ of them walked through the same door and passed by the same man, _Carl._

And Layla, she just so happened to be a stenographer. On the Senate floor.

And nearly every week, Jonah maintained an appearance of a loose-lipped liaison.

He’d let slip something inconsequential he heard in the halls of the White House and they would give _so much more._

Jonah still cherished their company and genuine friendship, but he wasn’t raised to put that over always having the upper hand. It wasn’t how he operated and he didn’t get this far to stop now.

So, he fixes the honey for when the cornbread comes out and works on the topping for the chili.

It was a dance that Jonah knew all to well.

Another song starts and the familiar trill of guitar has another grin breaking out as he chops some green onions.

* * *

_Why…why, why, why?_

It’s all Dan can think about.

He groans as his neck tightens up and he rolls his shoulder to ease the tension. He pours the last remnants of the vodka left on the floor into a glass and throws himself onto his couch, groaning at the stiffness of it and missing the plushness of Jonah’s.

He cracks his neck and sighs as he downs half the glass, uncertainty and tension rising higher.

He hadn’t been this unsettled since he first moved to D.C.

Amy’s motives are clear, even if why she rushed and offered him his job back isn’t.

Jonah, on the other hand, is a mystery and Dan takes another long drink for even thinking that. Dan always thought Jonah was as transparent as cellophane, but apparently it was all an act. _Apparently,_ Jonah plays the game better than anyone Dan’s ever seen. Even he couldn’t have predicted the chain of events at the station or have controlled that many moving pieces. It was impressive and clever and… _hot._

Dan chokes on the clear and bitter liquid currently burning his throat.

_Fuck. No way. Nope._

He laughs, blames the vodka and tries to ignore it.

He turns the TV on then shuts it off when the noise is too loud and lights too bright.

He tries his computer, even manages to focus on half an article about a bill proposal, before slamming it shut.

He checks his phone.

_3 texts from his brother, 2 from his mother, and thousands of mentions on social media._

All go ignored because Dan can’t concentrate on anything else.

He tries, but still returns to the idea because if there’s one thing he’s never had control over, it’s his thoughts. Sure, he can filter them, ignore them, _bury_ them, but he’s never been able to stop them.

And now that the ideas of _Jonah_ and _attraction_ are floating around his headspace together, his mind is flooded with moments, however small, of times Dan _may_ have been attracted to Jonah in the past. His head spins, not from the memories themselves, though they deserve their own recognition, but with the sheer _quantity_ of them. Still, some stand out more than others.

_I think you’re a little sweet on me._

Dan hadn’t been lying then. Though the barb was an easy one to cut into Jonah, the way the taller man acted, and the excitement in the prospect of spending time with Dan, led him to think Jonah did have a crush on him. Which he promptly squashed, but not without first fantasizing of making out after the concert just to render Jonah finally fucking speechless.

_So you do follow me._

If Dan hadn’t been so angry at the time, the confident cadence in which Jonah said that would’ve given him pause. When he thinks back on it now though, he can’t stop his chest from tightening because try as he might, Jonah has almost always been a part of Dan’s career in one way or another. And though he hadn’t planned it, shoving the burrito in Jonah’s smug, satisfied face now doesn’t necessarily make him as satisfied as it did before. More over, it makes Dan’s cheeks flush both from action and implication.

Most recent of course _\- You fucking genius._

Dan’s expression was completely genuine, but still took him by surprise, mostly because he’d said it out loud. Like most of what Jonah’s accomplished since he burst into Dan’s apartment, Dan’s been impressed at every turn. More than impressed, it seems, if the increased heart rate and constant flash of Jonah’s lips unbidden were anything to go by.

He finishes the last of the glass with flourish to brace himself what he was about admit.

_I’m attracted to Jonah Ryan._

And _fuck_ if admitting that truth doesn’t make Dan’s skin tingle all over.

Dan’s had plenty of sexual partners over the years, but they were a means to an end. A transaction that met a purpose whether it was his own pleasure, theirs, or a congressional secret or two. He feels no shame or guilt for it, but he knows what he… _feels_ for Jonah is different. It’s intense and raw and makes Dan feel like an exposed wire, poised to spark a fire at any moment.

Jonah was nothing like his other… _partners_. They didn’t know Dan, not even in general capacity, but Jonah does. He knows more about Dan than anyone else in D.C. and it scares him. The only way to survive in the game was to always have the upper hand, and with Jonah, even before all that’s happening now, Dan has never truly felt like he had it. And now? He’s certain he doesn’t.

And it isn’t an attraction to Jonah, the fact that Dan’s mind refuse to let go of the singular action of Jonah licking his lips in the car, or even the unrelenting arousal that he’s not felt for a long time that really scare Dan.

Ever the pragmatist, the fear of Dan is not knowing _what_ Jonah got out of helping him, how to sift the balance in his favor has him considering Amy’s offer. At least with the Veep’s office, Dan knew where he stood and who he was dealing with. With Jonah, he was being tossed into a pool and being expected to know how to swim.

He didn’t fully trust either Jonah or Amy, but he knows he has to decide.

Then, Amy’s comment to Jonah returns to the forefront of his thoughts with the grace of a bull in a china shop.

_“…makes me wonder just exactly why you’re here? You really think I’m stupid enough to believe you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”_

And Dan’s chest tightens painfully from the uncertainty the comment raised.

Perhaps, that were his true fear lives. Not in the decision, but in the trust. Placing his trust in Jonah, fully, without knowing why or what he was doing, but _believing_ he would never hurt Dan. It was a trust reserved for…friends… _partners._

Dan’s not sure if he can do that without knowing _why_ Jonah was doing any of this.

He looks to his phone again.

_No new notifications._

He takes a deep breath before opening his contacts.

In his most recent calls Amy’s and Jonah’s names sat on top of one another.

His future, quite literally in his hand, was one click away.

Now all he has to decide is which one his finger lands on.

He has to decide who to trust.

He closes his eyes and presses down.

* * *

Jonah pours Layla’s favorite Malbec into her glass and laughs as she finishes her story.

“Well, I guess it’s not the first time Senator Flynn has arrived hungover and it won’t be the last.”

She pulls her slightly graying hair behind her and presses her napkin gently to her forehead.

“You made it much spicier this time, Jonah.”

“You ask, I deliver,” Jonah takes his own sip of the wine, delighting in the acidity.

Carl nods in agreement and jokes, “Didn’t know you had it in you, son.”

Jonah holds back the rush of fondness he feels and covers in with another laugh.

“So, how was your week, Jonah? POTUS still trying to manage the new bill?” Layla offers, and if Jonah weren’t so good at his job, he’d recognize the faux gentility at her prodding as she adjusted her green sweater against her tan skin.

He nods, “Aren’t we all?”

He can tell the answer doesn’t satisfy her, but she doesn’t press on.

“I know the Senate is waiting for word from West Wing, that’s all.” She cajoles, offering her own piece. Jonah takes it.

“Well, last I heard, POTUS was close to closing in on it, but has reservations on the tax provisions.”

“Miss Gabriel in 3G was talking on her phone this morning,” Carl chimes in, brown eyes full of mischief, “seems as though her plans were cancelled this evening because her,” he clears his throat, _“_ would be busy working on rewrites for the bill.”

Jonah nods, covers his expression with a bite of cornbread and makes a note to meet with Senators Flynn and Kaplan. Probably at their country club would be best.

He feels for his phone to write a note, then remembers it’s still on the counter.

He has a slight moment of panic, but still goes to change the topic.

“How’s the vacation planning, going? Did Chris get you guys a good deal?”

Layla smiles wide, “He did, we’re just figuring out the dates.”

Carl grabs her hand and looks to his wife with such love and admiration, it makes Jonah unreasonably envious.

“We may never come back,” Carl laughs and the other two at the table join in.

A sudden banging at the door stops all three of their laughs short.

“Uh, excuse me a moment.”

Jonah’s heart is pounding as he approaches the door, knowing there’s only one person who it could be, but not knowing why they were there.

He tries to open the door slowly, but the moment there’s a few inches of space, Jonah’s unexpected _guest_ bursts into his apartment.

He’s reminded of his own behavior a few days ago and would feel guilty if it wasn’t for the concern at the intrusion.

“What the fuck have you been doing? I’ve called you like thousand times.” The intruder demands, voice too loud for Jonah’s comfort.

Jonah closes the door, his back to the other person, and works through several different ways to tackle this new problem.

He goes for honesty and hopes it doesn’t backfire.

Jonah holds his hands out, “I fell asleep on the couch and then had _something else_ to do. My phone has been on silent on the counter. I didn’t hear it.”

He speaks slowly as he walks to his phone. Sure enough there’s a multitude of notifications, but non more noticeable than…

_Dan – 23 missed calls._

He takes a deep breath and turns to find Dan still glaring.

“What’s going on, Dan?”

Jonah crosses his arms, a little angry. Even though his reasons are valid, Dan is the one that pushed Jonah away. Dan is the one who told him to fuck off. He has no right to barge into Jonah’s apartment like this.

“What’s going on?!” Dan screams and Jonah winces at the echo it causes.

Then, after a moment of silence, Dan is in Jonah’s space, filling it fully, hands gripping Jonah’s sweater tightly. Jonah just barely holds back a gasp as he backs into the counter.

Dan is too close and looking too intently at him, searching for _something_. This close he can see freckles and the light in Dan’s eyes.

_Fuck._

Jonah schools his features, or at least thinks he does, but he can’t stop the blood rushing to his cheeks.

Suddenly, Dan looks like he’s about to break and Jonah barely fights every urge to put his hands on the shorter man’s shoulders.

Hands release Jonah’s sweaters, but don’t move. Instead they flatten against Jonah’s chest and stay there. Jonah’s certain Dan can feel how hard his heart is pounding.

“D-Dan?” He curse how shaky his voice sounds, but he’s never felt so uncertain in his life.

Dan’s voice is so quiet that if they weren’t standing an inch apart, Jonah would have missed it.

“ _Why_ are you doing this?”

Jonah can’t refrain from putting his hands on top of Dan’s, hoping the touch helps calm the other man as much as himself.

He open’s his mouth to ask what it is he’s meant to be doing exactly.

“Oh, sorry Jonah. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Layla calls out, awkward but not making a point to move.

Dan jumps from Jonah, blushing in embarrassment. Jonah can still feel the heat from his hands on his chest.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a date.” Dan sounds equal parts contrite and angry. Jonah has no idea why he’s angry - the confusion mounting into something tangible at this point.

Layla laughs and Jonah snaps back into place, setting aside everything with Dan for salvaging the evening. He hasn’t got what he needs from his guest yet and can’t risk waiting another week.

He forces a laugh that’s far too tight to sound natural.

“Dan, this is Layla-,”

“Layla Carson,” Dan interrupts and if it weren’t wholly the wrong moment, Jonah would be incredibly turned on at Dan knowing who she was.

“Layla, this is –,”

“Dan Egan,” Layla walks up and puts her hand forward, “I know who you are. You’re quite buzz around town.”

Dan’s face drain, but he keeps his composure, “All press is good press.”

Layla smiles, and Jonah watches her look between them with in a knowing way.

Jonah clears his throat and claps his hands to pull himself together.

“We’re in the middle of dinner. Would you like to join us?”

Dan is already retreating when Jonah stops him with a light grip on his wrist.

Dan looks quickly at their connection then back to Jonah’s eyes, the fear mixed with _something_ Jonah can’t define, evident in his expression.

Still, Jonah asks, _implores_ Dan.

“ _Stay.”_

He knows if Dan leaves, it’s the end. He doesn’t want that, _can’t let that_ happen.

Dan nods and Jonah watches as he puts on the Egan persona that he’s come to know.

“I’d love to.” It’s forced, but Layla seems to believe it and that’s all Jonah needs.

He steps forward, walking with her to Jonah’s dining room, and talking as if they’re old friends.

Once they’re out of sight, Jonah collapses against his counter and takes a few deep breaths, gearing himself up for the rest of the night.

He grabs a bottle from the fridge under his counter. A merlot, but better than nothing.

He was going to need it.

It seems his night was only just beginning.


End file.
